


Comfortably Numb (or not)

by marinarusalka



Category: Marvel Adventures (Comics), Marvel Adventures: Avengers
Genre: Fluff, Gen, Humor, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-06-14
Updated: 2010-06-14
Packaged: 2017-11-16 19:16:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,493
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/542921
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/marinarusalka/pseuds/marinarusalka
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Some things in life, even Captain America has trouble being heroic about.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Comfortably Numb (or not)

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the "toothache" square on my hc_bingo card. Thanks to muccamukk for the beta.

Steve Rogers didn't bruise easily, but when he did, the results tended to be spectacular. By the time the Avengers got home after the fight with the Wrecking Crew, Steve's jaw had gone at least ten different shades of purple where the Wrecker had landed a glancing blow with his crowbar.

"Nice," Tony smirked as he handed Steve an ice pack. "We should take a picture and frame it. Steve Rogers in his black and blue period."

Steve laughed it off, so nobody thought anything more about it, not even when Steve winced a little upon biting into his morning bagel the next day. It had been a _magic_ crowbar, after all. Even Captain America was bound to wince.

Steve being Steve, the bruises faded after a couple days. And for the rest of the week, Steve acted as if absolutely nothing was wrong. He even sparred with Tony twice, and it's not as if it was _that_ unusual for Tony to go for several sparring sessions without ever landing a high punch.

So neither Tony nor anyone else had any inkling at all that there was something wrong until Sunday morning, when all the Avengers were gathered in the kitchen for the weekly team brunch. There was the usual amount of laughter and chair shuffling and squabbling over the interesting parts of the paper, and in the middle of it all, Steve took a mouthful of coffee, made a choked, squeaky kind of noise, and bolted out the door.

This was such shocking, un-Steve-like behavior that everyone in the kitchen kind of froze for a moment. Peter and Luke forgot their tug-of-war over the sports section, Jan put down her half-eaten croissant, and Storm looked up from the crossword puzzle.

"What's with Cap?" Jan asked, looking nervous.

"Don't look at me." Luke held up his hands. "I didn't make the coffee."

"My spider-sense didn't go off," Peter said, "so he's probably not mind-controlled or an evil clone or anything."

"Someone should go after him," Storm said.

Everyone turned to look at Tony, but he was already half-way out the door.

* * *

"Hey." Tony rapped his knuckles against their bedroom door. "You all right in there?"

"I'm fine." Was it his imagination, or did Steve's voice sound distinctly strained? 

Tony cracked the door open and stuck his head in. "You sure? I think you've frightened the children."

"Sorry." Steve slumped a little where he was sitting on the edge of the bed. He pressed his fingers against the left side of his jaw, winced, and put his hand down. "I was hoping it would get better on its own, but I think it's getting worse."

"Are you having a _toothache_?" Tony boggled. Steve was always so vigorously, annoyingly healthy that it seemed unthinkable to have him suffer from something so... mundane.

Steve winced again. "I think the Wrecker might've cracked a tooth."

"The Wrecker?" Tony frowned. "That was a week ago."

"I know."

"And you haven't gone to a dentist because..."

Steve slouched a little lower. "Like I said, I was hoping it would get better by itself."

"A cracked tooth doesn't get better by itself, Steve. Not even for Captain America."

"I know," Steve said miserably. "I just..."

"Just what?" Tony grinned and smacked him lightly on the arm. "Don't tell me you're afraid of a little oral surgery. What kind of superhero are you?"

Steve glared at him. "That's not funny."

"Right." Tony made an effort to compose his face into a serious expression, but couldn't sustain it for more than a few seconds at a time. "It's totally not funny. There's nothing at all hilarious about Captain America shaking in his patriotic boots at the prospect of a dentist's visit."

"You don't get it."

"Sure I do. Dentists are scary. They have drills. And pliers. And those pointy metal things with the-- Hey!" Tony had to break off just when he was on a roll, because Steve was marching out of the room. He followed, of course, but Steve could put on a lot of speed when he wanted to, and by the time Tony made it out the door, the hallway outside was empty.

"Great," Tony muttered, suddenly feeling about two inches tall. "What the hell just happened?" Of all the people he knew, Steve was by far the one least likely to get upset at being teased. Apparently, the situation was a great deal more serious than he'd realized.

Steve often liked to hit things when he was upset, so Tony went down to the gym first. Nothing. He came back up, and ran into Peter on the second floor.

"Hey, Webhead. Have you seen Steve?"

"Yeah." Peter looked wary. "A couple of minutes ago. He had that scary steely-eyed look he gets from Nazis, supervillains, and you being an ass." He made an exaggerated show of looking around. "I don't see any Nazis or supervillains."

"Peter..." Tony growled. Peter just rolled his eyes, unimpressed.

"I think he went up to the roof. Don't be an ass."

Steve _was_ on the roof, sitting with his back propped against one of the dormers that faced the front yard. He didn't turn around when Tony approached, but Tony had no doubt that Steve knew he was there.

"Hey," Tony said. "Apparently I was a bigger jerk than I meant to be just now. Sorry."

"It's okay," Steve muttered in a voice that clearly indicated that it wasn't.

Tony came over and sat down next to him, close enough for their arms to brush. "How bad is that tooth?"

"Pretty bad," Steve admitted.

 _Ouch._ Steve's "pretty bad" was most people's "oh, God, kill me now." Tony put one hand on Steve's back. Oh, yeah. That was a whole lot of tension all coiled in one place.

"You know it'll just get worse if you just keep putting it off, right?"

"I'm aware of that." Steve sighed. "It's just... You know how I can't really get drunk? And how most sedatives and mind-altering drugs don't work very well?"

"Sure," Tony said. "Gotta love that super-soldier metabo-- oh."

"Right," Steve said. "Anesthetics don't really work either. I get kind of maybe a little bit numb for about five minutes, and then it wears off." 

"Damn," Tony muttered, "that... really sucks."

"You have _no_ idea."

"So when was the last time you've been to a dentist?"

"March third, 1942." Steve rattled off the date without a moment's pause. "Impacted wisdom tooth. That was how they found out the novocaine didn't work."

"Ow." Tony's own jaw throbbed a little in sympathy. Now that he thought about it, that kind of explained a lot about Steve's usual bathroom routine. Because really, that much flossing just wasn't normal. "I'm sorry."

"Not as sorry as I'm going to be once I get to the dentist," Steve grumbled. Tony put a hand on his back again.

"Hey, it's better to just go ahead and get it over with, right? I'll give you my dentist's number. Drop my name, and he'll fit you in for tomorrow."

"Thanks." Steve sighed. "I think."

He looked positively wretched. That impacted wisdom tooth must've been a bitch.

"Tell you what," Tony said, "you call and make that appointment, and I'll... think of something."

Steve looked dubious. "Think of what?"

"I don't know. I'm a genius, I think of things. I figured out a flying suit of armor. I can figure out a way to get you through a bit of dental work."

"Those aren't at all the same thing," Steve said, but he looked hopeful. As if he really believed in Tony's ability to figure it all out. Which settled it, of course. Tony _would_ figure something out, whatever it took. Maybe he could get Hank and Reed to help out. Hell, he'd get Victor von Doom in on the project if he had to. 

"Okay then." He gave Steve's back one last encouraging pat and rose to his feet. "I'll be in the lab. If anyone asks for me, tell them to go away."

_Time to stock up on coffee..._

* * *

"Ta-da!" Tony beamed with pride as he held up his newest invention. He was still wearing his clothes from the day before, and his face had that manic look he got when he was sleep-deprived and very excited about something. "Look what I made."

"Uhm." Steve examined the curved metal band in some confusion. "It's... very nice?" There was a small raised dot at one end of the band that might be a power button, and some small pinholes along the inside, but nothing else to indicate its function.

"You have no idea what is, do you?" Tony laughed. "Turn around. Duck your head a little, right there... now hold still."

Steve obediently held still while Tony fitted the band around the back of his neck like a collar. It felt heavier than it looked. The main curve of the band hugged the base of his skull, while the ends turned upward to press against the hinges of his jaw. "Is this what you spent all night in the lab for?"

"Yep. I'm going to turn it on now. Tell me what you feel."

"Feels like pins and needles on my neck." Steve resisted the urge to try and scratch under the band. "What am I supposed to-- oh."

"So?" Tony bounced on the balls of his feet. "Did it work?"

Steve wriggled his chin. Or at least he thought he did. "Icawtfeewyface."

"If that's dental-patient speak for 'I can't feel my face,' then it worked." Tony's grin grew even wider. "Okay, now I'm switching it off."

"Whoa." Steve cautiously felt his jaw, wincing when his fingers found the tender spot over the cracked tooth. "How did you do that?"

"Electrical signal straight to inferior alveolar nerve. It was pretty easy, really. Everyone's medical scans are on file in the main computer, so once I figured out what needed to be done, it was just a matter of custom-fitting it for you." Tony always made his inventions sound like the simplest thing in the world, but Steve knew better. 

"That's brilliant, Tony. I can't believe you put it together in one night."

"Yeah, well." Tony shrugged. "I was feeling motivated. So what time is your appointment?"

* * *

"Ah, yes... there it is." Dr. Devadas pinned Steve's x-ray to the light box on his wall and tapped it with the end of his pen. "Second molar on the left. You can see the crack right there."

"Uh-huh," Steve said. He never could figure out why doctors of every persuasion insisted on putting up x-rays and acting as if anyone could look at them and see the problem. Or maybe it was science types in general. Tony was always showing off formulas and circuit diagrams and acting very surprised when normal people didn't understand what they were looking at. "How bad is it?"

"Not nearly as bad as it could've been." Dr. Devadas gave him a stern look. "You really shouldn't have waited a week before coming to me. You're lucky the tooth didn't get infected. As it is, a root canal and a crown should take care of it."

"Great," Steve said weakly. Tony's little pain-killing collar was on a table only a couple of feet away, and Dr. Devadas had already examined it and agreed to use it, but none of it did much to ease the queasy feeling in the pit of his stomach.

Tony thought it was all a great big joke. Sure, he sympathized, and his apology on the rooftop had been perfectly sincere, but he still thought it was funny. He'd made sure, after the first time, not to laugh where Steve could see him. But there was no mistaking the amusement in his eyes as he watched Steve fidget all through the taxi ride from the mansion. 

Tony, clearly, had never had dental surgery done without anesthesia in an army field hospital by a terrified kid who didn't look old enough to be out of high school, let alone dental school. Logically, Steve knew that this was going to be completely different, but apparently some fears were immune to logic. Just sitting in that too-narrow chair with the swivel-mounted light overhead and the water basin at his elbow set off all his fight-or-flight instincts. He had to grip the armrests tightly to keep from bolting.

Tony hadn't had time to really test that collar. What if it didn't work the way it was supposed to? What if it cut out after five minutes the way the novocaine had? What if a wire came loose or the batteries died, or--

"Sir?" Dr. Devadas was looking at him with concern. "Are you all right?"

"Yeah." Steve gulped. "I'm good."

"Hey, doc!" Tony burst through the door, deaf to the protests of the receptionist behind him. "Have you started yet?"

"No." Dr. Devadas frowned at him. "But I was just about to. And you really shouldn't be--"

"Good. I didn't want to miss anything." Tony took the collar from the table and placed it on Steve's neck again. He gave Steve's shoulders a quick squeeze before going to fetch a chair from the corner near the light box. "I must observe my prototype in action, right?"

"We don't normally allow--" Dr. Devadas began in the resigned tone of someone who knew he'd already lost the argument.

"I promise I won't be in the way." Tony planted the chair next to Steve's and sat down. "But you never know, the current may need adjusting. Or Winghead here might need his hand held."

"Fine," Dr. Devadas sighed. "But you must sit still and be quiet the whole time."

 _Right_ , Steve thought, _that'll be the day._

* * *

"I can't believe you actually held my hand," Steve said as he and Tony walked out onto Lexington Avenue. Tony just grinned at him, all smug and unrepentant.

"I didn't notice you pulling away. Admit it, you liked it."

"I was having a root canal done. There was absolutely _nothing_ about the experience that I liked."

"Did it hurt?"

"No," Steve admitted, and couldn't help meeting Tony's grin with a small smile of his own. "That was pretty amazing. I didn't feel a thing." His jaw was a little sore now, with the surgery done and the collar off, but it was such a huge improvement on the earlier toothache that it seemed churlish to mention it. "Thank you."

"Any time." Tony let his shoulder bump lightly against Steve's as they headed south toward the mansion. "You were very brave, by the way. Positively heroic. Come on, I'll buy you an ice cream soda on the way home."

"Tony!" Steve gave him an outraged look. "I'm not _twelve_."

"Yeah, but you totally want an ice cream soda, don't you? I can see it in your eyes."

"Well..." Now that Tony had mentioned it... "Okay," Steve said, "I guess I do."


End file.
